


merge

by Tavadriel



Category: Legend of Zelda: Four Swords
Genre: Angst, Based on the manga, Drama, M/M, Manga Verse, Spoilers, Tag Suggestions Welcome, Yaoi, is this a series?, italics abuse, nervous new poster is nervous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tavadriel/pseuds/Tavadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four swords and four Links go in. One Link comes out. (In theory, anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	merge

merge: “to combine to form a single entity; to amalgamate, fuse; to be absorbed and disappear, to lose character or identity by absorption into something else.” _Oxford English Dictionary_.

 

 

 

A split second; a pause that lasted lifetimes. Then, in a blur of color and light, four became one.

 

Returned into one.

 

And as the bodies merged, so did the experiences, the thoughts, the dreams, the memories; a veritable flood, overwhelming – a cascade. Of leave-taking. Of loss.

 

<flash>

 

_Tomorrow. They would all just – stop, tomorrow._

_“What’d you want, Red?” Irritation; it was just so **easy** to be mad at him. To blame him._

_“I know you don’t like me, Blue.” Before he could protest – or, even worse, agree, Red took a deep breath. “Not the way I like you.” Helpless, hopeless, yet such a sweet pain. Another deep breath. “But tonight is all we have. All any of us have.”_

_Unsure where this was going; and not liking Red – the cheerful one – being so serious, even a little lost. And fast, too – right next to him before Blue knew he’d even moved._

_“L-let me,” there was the Red he knew; flushed bright as his name but he **had** do this. “Please.”_

_And what would it hurt; they wouldn’t be around to remember, after all. When in doubt, act. Blue shrugged – curious, despite himself. “Sure.”_

_Closed his eyes, to make it easier (for him or for me?). He thought Red had meant a kiss. Embarrassing, sure, but who would ever know? Only to jump back, eyes wide, at the feel of a hand on his hip._

_“Red!”_

_Hurt shouldn’t look that sweet; no boy, period, should ever look **sweet**._

_Forced himself to take that step, to repeat the gesture, slower. “Blue.” Made their eyes meet, the one thing they all had in common. “I w-want,” bit lip, and why did that take his breath away, “to give – to give you this. Please.”_

_It – it wouldn’t count, right? I mean, they were all the same person anyway. Unable to find words, to even meet the pleading and the too-much-warmth (stop looking at me like that), nodded, once. He’d faced monsters, after all, and it wasn’t like Red would actually hurt him._

_Knees wobbly at the touch through fabric, let alone bare skin. Slid down to sit, cradled against a tree, hand shoved into his mouth to avoid making too much sound, to alert the others that were far, far too close for comfort – flash of shame at letting (doubled, on doing) but knew he wouldn’t have the strength to push him away even if they **did** come. (Bad word, wrong word!)_

_How was Red so – so good?! Flare of jealousy – had he, with someone else?_

_Thick and hot and much bigger from this angle – mustn’t think, if he stopped to think then he would stop completely and this was his only, his last chance. Rich scent of sweat and something else uniquely Blue and suddenly glad they were only doing this tonight; how much worse to have known this taste and feeling and closeness every time he was pushed away? Ignored the feelings in his own flesh; this was for **him** and him alone. A gift._

_Flood of sour and salty, low dark moan felt as much as heard – pride, even as he coughed just a bit (I did this, I gave you this, made you feel) – melting into little whimpers as a tug at his hair stopped him from chasing every last drop. Smiled, so happy he couldn’t contain it, making his skin feel too tight._

_Only for his reverie to be startled by a tentative, barely present, touch to his knee._

_Not looking, not directly. That made it (possible) easier. “Just – just don’t look.” Still in the lower tones following release.  Red nodded, closing his eyes._

_Without sight the touch was much stronger, calloused grip from sword practice, strong and sure. (How he – how he with himself –) Wanting to savor each sensation; just wanting it over (and not to like it so much). It shouldn’t be this easy; it shouldn’t be over this fast, trying so hard to make it last. Leaning forward to bite down on his tunic to not scream with love and pleasure and so, so much joy._

_Risked a soft kiss to his forehead. Blue cleared his throat. “That’s not how you say goodbye.” Ever so softer and warmer, lips on lips, full of what words couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever say. Either. Both._

 

<flash>

 

_Faint bite of cheap ale in the back of his throat. Not drunk, no – by the three, not being that stupid ever again – yet enough to smooth out the jagged edges of what he could never quite forget. (It would have been easier to just fall, to become the role, the mask.)_

_“We’re gonna rule it all,” voice as warm and familiar as the arm around his waist. “You’n me, Vio.”_

_Sound of agreement, as if not using actual words made it better._

_“So quiet,” with that barely-there catch that broke his heart to hear. “Aren’t ya happy?”_

_‘How can I be?’ warred with ‘of course, with you’. To avoid saying the wrong – or the right – thing, Vio pulled closer into his warmth, the tang of his skin muted by the ashes of the forest, the mix as confused and jumbled as his own thoughts._

_Suddenly, all he wanted was to **forget** , if only for a moment. Forget what he had to do, heart wailing and mind cold, frozen. “Let’s go up.” Abrupt, but he doubted Shadow would complain._

_Stolen kisses, stumbling up the stone stairs, pausing to catch, lose, then catch their breath again in an alcove on the second floor; a niche for a long-lost statue on the third; pressed deliciously to the door leading to his – their – rooms at the very top. Laughing at the hissed curses as Shadow fumbled to find the handle with a weak hand, heat straining under his own hand through thin leggings._

_No breath or room for laughter, then, as a hungry mouth devoured his own. “Mine,” growled into his throat as claws literally tore his clothes off, yet even in passion did no more but scratch his skin in all the right ways. His own hands did the same, albeit slower, taking advantage of the surprise feeling of intimate flesh touching to pull off both tunic and undershirt before resuming the kiss, the kisses, that multiplied beyond counting._

_“Yours!” burst from his lips as hot and thick and wonderful pressed exactly where he wanted it most, as deep inside his body as Shadow was inside his heart. Despite the pleasure, a tiny voice murmured, ‘never, never again,’ which he desperately tried to banish by tightening his legs around his wonderful, terrible lover. Then for a shining, fragile moment, there was nothing but the two of them, together._

_“Love,” murmured into his shoulder as breaths faded into the low, even notes of sleep._

_“I love you.” How much easier to say the words while the other couldn’t reply. If he heard a single word, a sound, he knew he would burrow back into that bed – their bed – and who knew if he would be able to find the courage to do what he must another time?_

_Courage. It burned like acid. Wasn’t the right thing supposed to feel good?_

_Silently he dressed – of course, with those claws, they both had extra, although for once he wished there wasn’t. Still part of him frantically tried to find an excuse, any excuse, to **not**. A sliver of early dawn light sparkled from a mirror in the corner. That mirror, that other Mirror – suddenly, savagely, Vio wished he had never seen it, then he wouldn’t – wouldn’t have to –_

_Down the stairs. Don’t look back. Armory to the left; plenty of sledges and hammers to choose from. Raised it high – love and pain and desire and despair and a moment of hesitation that no one else would ever know. “Forgive me,” whispered as soft as breath._

_Because he would never forgive himself._

 

 

 

Stunned.

 

Echoed conversations; overlapping events combined with private wishes and dreams and memories, so many memories, filling beyond full, impossibly full, overfull.

 

_We didn’t know. I didn’t know._

 

They were only memories, but memories were all they – he – had.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic! (That thing on Aarin didn't count because I didn't even try for characterization. Also posted on DeviantArt.) And my first story on AO3!
> 
> This was supposed to have more smut and less obscure prose but I lost my nerve at the last minute. (Should I write an extended version later?)
> 
> And no, haven't played the game, so this is all manga (well, let's say 'inspired by' since most of it is my own twisted mind).
> 
> This may have a related, longer story. I'm wrestling with tons of plot holes and the fact that I am horrible at writing action, so not sure about that. (Worst comes to worst, I'll just put up my favorite scene ideas as WIPs if I can't write the real thing, if AO3 supports that.)
> 
> I had more notes planned but they just haven't happened (yet).
> 
> I do welcome comments and constructive criticism. I always want to improve! All I ask is no flames, please. At the end of the day, I did my best.


End file.
